Dark of the Sun
by SeleneLiath
Summary: An emissary is sent to Rohan to convince King Thengel of a treaty between Esgoroth and the Horselords. The king dispatches a small Éored to journey north but the envoy is not quite what she seems. OCxOC with canon interaction. Full summary within. RxR
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: The year is TA 2959 and Thengel has recently returned to Rohan as King after the death of his father. Further north, it has been roughly twenty years since Smaug decimated Lake-town, which relocated and renamed itself Esgaroth. The Lord of Esgaroth sends a duplicitous envoy, a woman disguised as a messenger, to encourage an alliance between Rohan and Esgaroth. At the agreement of King Thengel, Rohan sends a company of men back with the female envoy only to encounter disagreements and peril along the way. And when they arrive in Esgaroth, the Rohirrim discover the lady is not what she seems. But a greater danger threatens them as Sauron seeks to build his strength, using the greed of Men.**

Chapter One

I pulled anxiously at the chain that kept the dark cloak secured, my fingers working their way along the cold links. It was a recurring habit and my skin was all too familiar with the contour and idiosyncrasies of the chain. I'd probably toyed with this item at least a dozen times in the span of a morning, my other hand allowing the reins to slide effortlessly slack as the gelding extended his neck to snatch a bite of grass. Regaining a firm hold on the leather I discouraged further grazing as we turned back to the well marked path. Edoras rose before me, leagues yet but close enough to enjoy the impressiveness of the hill. The missive that would allow me admittance lay tucked away in a saddle bag, kept safe from wind and rain during my journey. My heart beat wildly in my ears as I encouraged the willful horse onward, each step taking us closer to potential disaster.

It was not without preparation that I made this passage across Arda. Lord Ruarc was explicit in his instructions and left no detail unimagined. I was assured I would find good company among the men of Rohan for I bore a letter of companionship and alliance. I prayed my presence would be well received and that the message from Lord Ruarc would be taken well. Indeed, it appeared foolproof. Yet I had a nagging feeling sitting firmly in my gut as Edoras loomed above me. What if I was not convincing enough? Would Thengel send me back to Esgoroth empty handed… or worse?

I steeled myself against the pin pricks of doubt, reminding myself I'd been riding weeks for this very purpose. Allowing any suspicion of failure cloud my thoughts was unacceptable. With this enlivened reminder, I encouraged the gelding into a steady canter. We made a bee-line for the city, crossing the ground smoothly until we were upon Edoras, the walled hill gazing down upon. A sentry stood silhouetted against the setting sun, his decorated helm catching the dying light. He called me forth as I halted the horse, his tone implying I was not yet welcome.

"I am Hadyn of Esgaroth, emissary of his Lordship Ruarc son of Torin. I come bearing news from the north as well as a letter for your King." Silence followed my words as the man disappeared from the tower. Though I'd spoken Westron I was fully anticipating beleaguered translating, as I understand very little Rohirric. The gelding was not pleased to be delayed, his hoof sending ripples of dust into the air as he pawed the ground. I could hardly care for his discomfort, my attention focused on the wooden stockade that presently barred my entrance. Finally, the guard returned, peering down at me.

"Hail, Hadyn of Esgaroth. Thengel King allows you entrance into Edoras," as he spoke the heavy doors were pulled open to admit me. "Follow the lane until you are met with his majesty's guards. You will seek his audience in Meduseld."

With a courteous cant of my head I allowed the gelding to surge ahead, his forward walk nearly breaking into a trot as we traversed the wide road up the hill of Edoras. I knew very little of this land, owing most of my knowledge to tales and occasional drawings of the Land of the Horselords. But by all accounts the stories did not do the place justice. It was simply magnificent, the thatched houses and well made barns making the wattle and daub houses I was accustomed to pale in comparison. Folk were out and about this spring day, their blond tresses glinting in the fading light. As far as I could see these people were well looked after and in healthy condition. I felt entirely foreign with my dark hair and roughly hewn clothing, the scent of weeks travel lingering upon me, despite a bath in the river only days before.

They stared silently at me as I rode past, their eyes boring into me. I could not tell if it was disgust or merely indifference with which they regarded me but no one smiled or offered a welcoming gesture. I felt the doubt creep back up my spine but I forced it away as we neared the steeper incline toward the top. Here I was met by mounted guards, clearly informed by their comrade that I was to be escorted to the king. They said nothing but simply flanked me, riding at an extended jog up the hill. Before me stood a spectacular hall, a grand veranda and carvings of fine woodwork issuing forth from the building. It was truly an impressive sight and one I would not soon forget. This must be Meduseld.

A guard came forward as my small party halted, his hand grasping the reins beneath my horse's mouth. Whether it was to allow me a moment to dismount or to keep me from doing something dangerous I couldn't tell. These men had the facial expressions of statues, their bright eyes following me without revealing emotion. I felt immediately unwanted but I ignored it if only for the purpose of my visit. Removing my satchel from the tack, I followed the men up the stone steps to the imposing entrance of Meduseld. We were met by the Doorward who indicated he would like to examine the contents of my sack. I opened it for him but made clear I would not be relinquishing it. With a glance to his fellow Rohirrim, the Doorward nodded. I was thankful he did not strip me of my weapons, likely figuring I had no chance if I was stupid to unsheathe them. He stepped back and bade me enter Meduseld with my close-at-hand guards.

If the façade was stunning, the interior was breathtaking. Stone and wood was interwoven as if they were the same substance, the equine carvings blending effortlessly into the stone framework. The hall was long and wide, lit by sconces and iron-wrought chandeliers. We had nothing of this magnificence in Esgoroth. Despite my admiration I tried to maintain a composed if not determined expression. The last thing I wanted this king to see was a mystified country girl in awe of Rohan's architectural prowess. We strode purposefully down the long aisle, Rohirric men and women on either side pausing in conversation to look. I imagined these must be the courtiers and nobility of Rohan. As we continued down the length of Meduseld I became increasingly aware of the majesty of these people. Having never known the Rohirrim until this moment I was temporarily envious of their finery and ancient holdings. After the desolation wrought by the dragon Smaug, Lake-Town had been moved from its original foundation and renamed. We had nothing of the history of this place.

We stopped just short of a raised throne, a man seated thereupon preoccupied with a golden-haired child of perhaps ten standing next to him. A crown sat neatly upon the King's pale hair, the stones within glinting in the firelight. Beside him sat a regal looking woman, his Queen no doubt, her eyes cast serenely upon me. Of all the folk I'd encountered she seemed the least austere. Both were dressed in ceremonial garb, their robes and buckles bearing the profile of a horse. The sword at the king's side drew my eye immediately, my appreciation for its fine craftsmanship nearly visible had I not averted my gaze.

"Hail, Thengel King," the leader of my entourage greeted the king with a bow. I was momentarily surprised that they spoke Westron here, my belief that Rohirric was the primary language of Rohan clearly incorrect. The monarch looked away from the boy at his side, hazel eyes assessing without concern. "I bear to you Lady Hadyn of Esgoroth. She seeks an audience with his majesty."

The king waved his hand slowly to indicate I would be admitted as the boy retreated to his mother's side, his blue eyes watching me with guarded interest. Judging from the boy's appearance and interaction with the king, I guessed he was Thengel's son, Prince Théoden. I stepped forward and offered a deep bow, as instructed by Lord Ruarc many weeks ago. As I raised my eyes to the sovereign seated before me, I caught the image of a dark haired man seated nearby the king. This man's eyes watched me with no apparent intrigue but his gaze did not stray. I returned my attention to the king, who nodded.

"Many greetings, honorable King Thengel," I began, my voice sounding louder than intended. The hall had become hauntingly quiet, the numerous stares that fell on my back making my insides turn. "Lord Ruarc of Esgoroth sends his warmest regards to you and yours. I bear to you this letter," I reached into the fold of my bag and retrieved the precious missive. Knowing I could not rise to his level, I handed the letter to a guard to ascend the few steps to give it to his king. "Within you will find the intention of my journey as well as my lord's hope for your response."

I waited for him to read the letter, knowing full well what it said. As the king's eyes skimmed the finely scripted page, I read silently with him

_His most esteemed King of Rohan,_

_Warmest greetings and many blessings upon you, Thengel King. Long has it been since our two lands had reason for communication and exchange. Not since the days of our forefathers have our people known one another – a regrettable state of affairs. On this day I extend the hand of renewed friendship to you, Thengel King. Many seasons have turned since Rohan and Esgoroth (then Lake-town) shared a purposeful alliance. Therefore, I propose we revive the days past when we called upon your people and you called upon mine._

_Shadows stretch far these days and I fear the evil leaking across Arda. The Necromancer has at long last been dispatched from Mirkwood but we now know he intends to stay and plague our lands from his seat in Mordor. I sense danger stirring from many angles and it seems prudent that Men not stray from friends. We were once allies in the days of Éothéod and though you have maintained your lands a great distance from us, Rhovanion is your ancestral home._

_I send my most skilled and trusted guide and envoy, Hadyn whose father perished valiantly during the slaying of the dragon, Smaug. If it is to your agreement, she will accompany an emissary from Rohan to stay in Esgoroth. We invite you, Thengel King, to journey north but we know you are much involved in the activities of Rohan. _

_If you find this alliance favorable, send a man back with Hadyn to Esgoroth, where he may take rest and discuss with myself how we might assist one another. _

_I pray this letter finds you in good health and free from the darkness that shadows our beloved home._

_Blessings of the Valar upon you,_

_His Lordship_

_Ruarc, son of Torin_

_TA 2959_

The King's eyes rose to meet mine as he handed the letter to the dark haired man behind him. I waited patiently, resisting the urge to fidget under his gaze. Surely Thengel would know of the history between the Rhovanions and his people. It would be unwise to refuse an ally so far north with strong trade ties to numerous areas throughout Arda. Although the letter was penned in a humbling tone, it was clear (to me at least) that Rohan should not pass this offer up to reestablish ties with the north.

"You are welcomed into my hall, Lady Hadyn," the King intoned gently his expression softening to that of a father. I felt immediately at ease with the kindness in his eyes. It seemed all too insincere. But I nodded my head politely in response. "Sojourn here as my guest while I consider a course of action in response to your lord."

"I am most grateful, majesty," I replied with a bow of supplication. He nodded to a servant who materialized from the shadows. It appeared my meeting was complete the king's attention turned now to the child who'd been waiting patiently, his gaze upon me. As if by some unspoken command the hall was alive again, the sound of chatting and quiet music replacing the dead silence of my initial meeting with King Thengel.

I glanced at the men who had been flanking me to find they'd disappeared amongst the small crowd. The servant curtseyed politely to me and indicated that I ought to follow her away from the hall. Readjusting the satchel, I gave a courteous nod to both the King and Queen before following the girl. I couldn't help but glance at the dark haired man, who still held the letter. His gaze was piercing and I felt intense disquiet when he looked at me, as if he could see within my heart and identify deception. Turning away from him I felt his eyes follow me until we exited the hall, my heart still pounding drum-like in my ribcage.

**A/N: Greetings! Fear not, fans of Heartlines (formerly Smoke and Shadow), I continue to work on that story, but this one popped into my head and I couldn't say no.**

**I hope you like this first chapter. Obviously it is set before the War of the Ring, during the spring of 2959 in the Third Age. King Thengel has taken up residency in Rohan after the death of his father and his son is little Theoden (such a cutie). As for Esgoroth, formerly known as Lake-town, it was nearly destroyed some 20-ish years ago by Smaug. It relocated elsewhere on Long Lake. Ruarc and Hadyn are obviously my creations. Rhovanions are the people of Rhovanion (duh) and a long time ago, the people of Rohan descended from the folk of Rhovanion, so that's what all the "former alliance" and past heritage is about. Now then…who is this mysterious dark haired man, I wonder?**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The chamber King Thengel afforded me went beyond my standards for lodging a guest. It was a wide room with long bay windows overlooking the beautiful mountain range. An inviting bed stood against the wall, its headboard carved from rosy colored wood, the ends transforming into the busts of two horses facing opposite each other. Although sparsely decorated, it held a manner of warmth and comfort I certainly did not warrant. In Esgaroth guests (even important ones) were kept in the Inn or occasionally Lord Ruarc's spare chambers. I was momentarily overwhelmed by the splendor of the place I barely heard the female servant behind me.

"Mistress?" I turned to face her, oblivious to her calling me at least twice before I acknowledged her. "There is a wash basin there," she indicated to the table near the entrance. "And a closet should you have need of it."

Well I most assuredly did not, my three outfits having been rotated along the course of several weeks. Three pairs of britches, a few shirts, a jerkin and cloak suited me just fine and definitely did not require hanging. With a broken smile, I nodded my appreciation. The girl turned to leave when I thought of something.

"I don't suppose there is a spare dress laying about that might fit me?" the servant cocked an eyebrow so I cleared my throat authoritatively before continuing. "I would not wish to see his majesty dressed as I am. And I have only a traveler's belongings."

"Of course, Mistress." The girl dropped into a curtsey I did not deserve before departing. Resisting the urge to fling myself upon the welcoming mattress, I set my satchel down and began the process of readying myself to look presentable before a King. I was not accustomed to royalty but I knew better than to return to his company dressed like a waif.

There was a circular mirror resting above the wash basin, its silvery surface the first reflection of myself that wasn't in water. Well, I certainly looked the part of a bedraggled messenger. So much for an emissary of Lord Ruarc. Although I'd been diligent about keeping my dark hair in a tight braid to avoid tangles, wisps and strands had unfurled themselves during the span of an evening to frame my face in soft curls. My skin had a layer of dust upon it, giving me a tanner complexion than I truly possessed. Indeed, I appeared akin to the Corsairs of the south with their sun kissed flesh - though mine rubbed off with a bit of water. Once I'd cleaned the majority of my visible skin (the water in the basin having turned a foul brown), I assessed my appearance once more.

Long nights outdoors on hard ground made me appear slightly older than my twenty-four years, but at least I looked moderately decent. An anomaly among these blue eyed, rosy cheeked blond people of Rohan I felt awkwardly out of place. The folk of Esgaroth shared my dark hair and brown eyes, the sharpness of my features probably seeming birdlike among the soft contours of the Rohirrim. But I decided I didn't look nearly as wretched as I'd originally feared. Lord Ruarc chose me for this task in part for my skill on the road but also because I was unique - a woman traveling alone. It was bound to spark the sympathies of a king with his own brood of daughters. They would not turn me away, Ruarc reasoned.

After struggling to un-braid and brush the dark brown hair that never seemed to cooperate, I gave up when a knock on the door sounded. Admitting the servant girl in, I flashed her a smile. She was a young thing, perhaps fifteen, her bright hair plaited and pinned to her head in an austere fashion. She offered a polite nod before setting the dress she'd fetched upon the bed. She waited for me to strip my traveling clothes and helped me into the modest grey gown.

It was a few inches too short, my doeskin riding boots poking out and my wrists extending beyond the sleeves. Whoever owned this did not yet possess my height, but the measurements were satisfactory, the waist hugging my figure and the bodice allowing me to breathe comfortably. I made the decision to leave all visible weapons off my person. The sword and hunting knife lay with my belongings. The quiver of arrows and bow were with my horse along with a smaller dagger. The only one left was the misericord tucked safely in my boot. I imagine it wouldn't get me far if I had cause to use it, but I liked the idea of having some weapon close.

"Shall I plait your hair, Mistress?"

"If you can manage it," I replied with a quick smile. The girl didn't seem to find the humor, her face set in determined concentration as she picked up the brush and bade me sit on the chair next to the bed. After a lengthy process of her battling the hair and me wincing, we were finally able to remove all tangles and burs from the dark locks. It was neatly braided down my back, looking quite lovely thanks to the patient maid.

"Thank you. What is your name?"

"Itain, Mistress. His majesty would see you when you are presentable."

She wasn't terribly verbose, Itain. But she flashed a demure smile before slipping from the room. I may yet make a companion of her. Not that I needed a friend here, but it seemed a good idea to become friendly with the natives. It made presenting my case a little easier. After a final glance in the mirror, I quit the room, retracing my earlier steps back to the hall. It was significantly less busy in the long chamber of Rohan's king.

The courtiers had departed, leaving long tables empty and servants silently tidying the remains of supper. As I caught sight of a roast ham being cleared from a table I realize I hadn't eaten since midday. Willing my protesting insides from groaning I walked the aisleway toward the king. His Queen and children were gone and he sat now with his dark haired companion and two guards. Another group of men dressed for riding stood nearby their sovereign. I waited a polite distance away until Thengel beckoned me forward.

"Lady Hadyn, I trust your room is suitable," he stated as I came to a halt before his dais, offering a deep bow. The gentleman on his right stared at me with what I could only guess was ennui, his expression indicating I was nothing more than a bother. But his eyes betrayed his curiosity.

"It is more than I merit, Thengel King," I answered respectfully.

"As an emissary and a woman you are afforded finery for your status," he replied with a slow smile. His Westron was flawless, though it came as no surprise. Here was a King of Rohan raised in Gondor, returned only after his gluttonous father met his unfortunate demise. Thengel was clearly cut of a different fabric than his predecessor and I very much liked the man this King displayed himself as. His smile was warm and his affection toward his children and people was genuine.

"This is my chief adviser, Lord Thorongil of the East," the King indicated to the dark haired man who offered the slightest of nods. "He and I have discussed your lord's offer at length." He paused and I resisted the urge to raise my eyebrows expectantly. Men had a way of dramatizing things when they could easily be done with it. "My kingdom welcomes an alliance with Esgoroth."

Relief washed through me. Now all that was left was plucking some poor sap to drag home and present to Lord Ruarc. I hoped he would be someone of some regard here, or else my Lord's machinations would take tedious time. Glancing around, I realized I did not want this Lord Thorongil accompanying me. There was something about the man that unsettled me. I noticed him staring at my person with renewed interest.

"As for an ambassador," the King continued, his gaze fixed upon me, "I would not think to return you to Lord Ruarc without Rohan's finest escort."

What?

"To bear the letter with my response and discuss negotiations with Esgaroth, I send with you a retinue of men from my Éored. Six will accompany you north and ensure you a safe journey back to Lord Ruarc."

Six? Six men who knew nothing of the terrain beyond their protected borders and he was worried for my safety? Had I not just made this trip on my own? I could barely contain my consternation but managed a small smile and respectful cant of my head.

"This agreement concerns you, my Lady?" Thorongil's voice was softer than I expected though there was a note of challenge in his tone. I met his gaze and found him not entirely unpleasing to look at. But I would not be swayed by his appearance into decorous submission.

"Six is a fair number of riders for the length of this journey, my Lord," I explained earnestly. "There are dangers beyond these lands that require a swift ride and - "

"Forgive me, Lady Hadyn," Thengel spoke kindly though the look in his eyes suggested he would not be moved on the subject. "It is the tradition of Rohan to send selected members of the King's Éored to discuss treaties, negotiations and alliances. I trust you understand."

"Yes, Thengel King."

I had no choice. With an accepting bow, I waited for them to tell me Thorongil would be leading this party of horselords. With a wave of his hand, the King signaled the men standing nearby to step forward. Although I hadn't counted when I first arrived in the hall, I saw now that there were six. Their leader was a stern-faced man with bright hair and solemn eyes. His helmet was tucked under one arm and he gave a low bow to his king. I immediately disliked the judgmental glance he cast me before returning his gaze to Thengel.

"I present Lord Alrik, son of Warin. He will lead his company of riders and see you safely to Esgaroth. He will also serve as envoy to Rohan."

This man, no older than my seven-and-twenty brother would lead a parley? True, I was younger than he but at least I wasn't expected to negotiate anything. Only confirm and return. And he appeared so… severe. My emotions must've manifested for Alrik's frown deepened while his king smiled.

"Lord Alrik is an accomplished rider and warrior. He will treat you respectfully and return to Rohan once all is settled."

"My lady," the man bowed stiffly before stepping away from the throne. It was settled then. "If you would permit, I would have us leave the day after tomorrow. I imagine you and your mount need a day's reprieve from the road. Does this suit you?"

"It does," I replied curtly. I could've been off tomorrow without a thought but if they wanted to wallow around for a day, I could hardly refuse. The man nodded and stepped back to his company, who remained silent during this interaction.

"Good then," the King intoned with another smile. "Tell me, Lady Hadyn, have you eaten yet?"

**A/N: Chapter two! Yaaay! Aragorn is revealed! I know he doesn't exactly have a title during this time period, but I gave him on anyway. Also, Hadyn is pronounced had-inn. And I realize an Éored is made up of 120 riders, but… they can spare six for this rendezvous. Let me know what you think in the reviews! **

**~ S**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"What woman travels for weeks upon weeks without an escort and acts as an ambassador?" the Queen of Rohan studied me carefully as we sat in the spring sun, her countenance offering only curiosity. Though the content of her query seemed confrontational her tone was inquisitive and her expression serene.

"My father was amongst Lord Ruarc's closest advisers," I explained as I polished the hit of my sword with a rag. She'd joined me on the terrace overlooking the wide valley of the Eastfold and I found myself enjoying her company. She was a short delicate woman with tawny hair pulled into a severe bun, which did not suit her youth. Her green eyes were warm despite the graveness of her appearance, though there existed a deep sadness in her gaze. From what I'd been told, Morwen Steelsheen was from the south of Gondor and married Thengel during his stay in Stoningland. There was a certain grace to the woman, yet she appeared slight and frail to me as we sat comfortably in the morning light. Her observations thus far displayed an intellectual mind lacking discrimination.

"I was trained alongside my brothers in the expertise of tracking and hunting, at my mother's behest. While I am sure my lord would prefer my brothers to undertake this journey, both are presently waylaid by other affairs." Well, it wasn't entirely a lie. Ruarc employed me specifically because I was not the generic male envoy. He believed a woman journeying alone would tug the heartstrings of a king with several daughters of his own. But both my brothers were otherwise engaged, so it wasn't a false statement.

"Your lord must have significant faith in you," the Queen commented, her perceptive green eyes watching for a reaction. I offered a noncommittal shrug and set the freshly cleaned weapon down. I was dressed in the same grey gown from the night before, my traveling attire having been taken away to be cleaned and mended. While unexpected, I certainly could not object for my britches were tearing and the jerkin could use some repairs to the seams.

"With times as they are, it seems prudent for women to learn the art of weaponry," I commented as I sat back in the chair, pulling my braid over one shoulder. Whether the Queen would take this as an affront to femininity I did not know. Some ladies felt women ought to stay within their station, lest they slight or distress men from marriage. But Morwen simply smiled with a gracious nod.

"Wise advice," she responded, her fingers playing with the delicate banded bracelet on the opposite wrist. "I have long believed daughters should learn the skills of a son. As we both know a woman need not learn to use a blade but to be felled by one."

Silence overtook us, the Queen's expression shadowed. I dare not inquire to the personal nature of this statement but offer a cant of my head. She was correct though there seemed to be an element of experience to her observation, which I felt immediate sympathy for. Regardless, it seemed her daughters would grow into a world where they would not be hapless victims of battle-hungry men but hold their own among them.

"Your King's adviser, Lord Thorongil, what manner of man is he?" it came almost surprisingly from my lips, my comfort with the Queen lending to the impulsive nature of the question. Morwen's blonde eyebrows rose over her bright eyes, the tug of a smile pulling the corners of her thin lips.

"Lord Thorongil has proven himself an astute man, beyond his years. He came to the service of my husband only two years ago but Thengel is much impressed by his wisdom." Her words, I noticed, were chosen carefully and she paused to consider it further. "Why do you ask?"

"He seems distrustful of me," I replied honestly. "He spoke warily to me last night after Thengel King bade me eat."

The memory of the night prior was still clear in my mind, the way Thorongil's eyes watched me with masked indifference. The King was adamant that I enjoy supper, despite the rest of the court's disappearance. So I sat in the great hall of Meduseld with a steaming meal and a mug of ale, trying not to wolf the food down like a street urchin. Thengel had departed and I was alone with Lord Thorongil and the son of the King.

"How far is Esgaroth?" the young Théoden inquired, sitting opposite me at the long table. This was his first interaction with me but he displayed no fear in conversing with strangers, his bright blue eyes taking in my foreign appearance with interest.

"A few weeks ride," I answered between bites. The herbed lamb on my plate was fast disappearing, though I was civil enough to remember my manners, taking a slow drink and chewing before I spoke. "Have you been north, Master Théoden?"

"No," he replied with clear disappointment. "South to Gondor where I was born. But never beyond the West Emnet. Next summer Father says I can join his Éored to see the Wold."

"Lovely country, that." A truthful statement, though I'd kept my journey close to Fangorn to avoid contact with the patrolling Rohirrim. My task was to come directly to Edoras, not parley with the Riders of the Mark.

"You seemed to cover the land of Rohan as a specter," Thorongil's soft voice contained a note of firmness as he watched me from a nearby table. The smoke that curled from his pipe evaporated into the darkness above. It seemed this man enjoyed lingering in the shadows, only part of his features lit by the candles near Théoden and me. "Forgive the intrusion, Lady of Esgaroth, but how did you manage avoiding his majesty's men?"

"Chance," I replied sincerely. True, I'd made a point to evade them but it was coincidence that none were touring the area I happened to be traveling through.

"You rode openly through the Wold and West Emnet without detection?" he pressed on, his tone rising slightly to indicate his skepticism. Théoden looked back and forth, unsure of the intention behind Thorongil's interrogation.

"No," I admitted after a drink from the mug. "After crossing at the North Undeep I kept to the edge of Fangorn until I met the Entwash. From there I met no resistance as I continued to Edoras."

"Entwood?" Théoden interjected, his eyes widening at the thought. He leaned forward against the table to watch me with intrigue. "Did you see them?"

I looked to Thorongil for clarification.

"The Rohirrim call Fangorn Entwood," the man explained quietly. "As for _them_, I believe young Théoden refers to the Ents."

"Ents? Tree-herders? Certainly you can't believe they still exist!" The looks on both their faces told me they most assuredly did.

"Master Théoden it is well past your bed time," Thorongil said suddenly, breaking the awkward silence. He turned his attention to the boy, his voice adopting a kinder tone. "Your mother would not be pleased to know you kept our guest from her supper while concurrently avoiding your bed hour."

With a crestfallen glance to the man, Théoden nodded his head and obediently got off the bench. He bowed once before me and I inclined my head with a small smile. Before departing he took a step closer, with a glint in his blue eyes as if to whisper a secret.

"I know Ents exist, my Lady. One day I will see one."

With a final glance to Thorongil, the boy exited with a grin on his lips. I rather liked him, though the plausibility of his claim was extraordinarily outlandish. But children deserve to have their beliefs cultivated until they eventually grow out of them. No doubt his household entertained the boy's notion of Ents. Catching Thorongil's gaze, I held it with an equally proud stare. I knew he disliked me, though I could not discern why. But I would not wilt before his inquisitive glare.

"Did your Lord Ruarc send messengers to Gondor as well?" his question caught me off guard but I recovered with vague shrug.

"I imagine he did." It was an honest answer, though I'd never been informed thusly. Why wouldn't Ruarc send an envoy to both lands? Thorongil was looking at me with contemplative interest and I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to be sitting alone with him.

"Lord Ruarc must hold you in high regard," it was a backhanded compliment spoken with prying intent. "A woman riding alone to bear a letter to a foreign king."

"Our numbers suffered greatly after the dragon's decimation of Lake-town," I all but snapped, maintaining a challenging tone. If he was after something he'd best say it. "If my lord could've sent a man he would've. But what men survive are either engaged in other affairs or too weak to make the journey."

"I meant no offense," Thorongil bowed his head in apology though his gaze hadn't changed. I reproached myself for allowing him to get under my skin and cleared my throat before taking another bite of food.

"It seems odd to me that Lord Ruarc would insisted upon a union with Rohan," the man spoke again, the timbre of his voice setting me on edge. Could I not enjoy my supper in peace? "What could Esgaroth gain from allies so far away?"

"We are a small town. The more alliances we have, the better." I struggled to keep an annoyed tone from my voice, instead focusing on the root vegetables on the plate. "My Lord recalls the ties between Rohan's people and our own from the days of Eorl the Young. Esgaroth is committed to that loyalty."

"Indeed," Thorongil agreed without much enthusiasm. I glanced at him and resisted the urge to ask what a man his age was doing advising a king at least twenty years his senior. He had to be at most thirty yet he appeared to command a great deal of power and influence here. Well, Thengel had made up his mind and Thorongil would just have to deal with it, regardless of his suspicions. He may be a royal adviser but he was no king.

"If you will excuse me, Lord Thorongil, I shall retire." It wasn't the most polite of farewells, but the man's incessant questions were leaving me irritated and uneasy. I didn't think he guessed my true intentions but his incorrigible need to stick his nose into my business didn't help. I stood with a respectful bow, to which he offered a cant of his head, the pipe held loosely in one hand.

I'd departed with barely a glance over my shoulder, returning to my chambers with no intention of further conversing with Thorongil. The man unsettled me, yes. But his questions seemed aimed at something I couldn't quite distinguish. It was an abridged version of this conversation that I shared with the Queen the morning after, her eyes concentrated upon the valley whilst I spoke.

"Lord Thorongil meant no insult," she replied once I concluded my tale. "He is a shrewd man for all his youth. Thengel is much attached to him and he in kind has given my husband good counsel. Do not worry yourself over it, Lady Hadyn. It is a pleasant surprise to receive a female emissary here and your arrival has piqued his interest. As an adviser he likely sees it his duty to gather information as it pertains to Rohan."

Her warm smile did well to put me at ease, though I wasn't terribly convinced by her defense of Thorongil. But I nodded in acquiescence, yielding my concern over the issue. Only one more evening and I would be free of his interrogations and guarded stares. Soon I would be back on the road home with an entourage of Rohirrim. Admittedly it was not the outcome Ruarc and I had anticipated, but there was strength in numbers, an especially vital aspect on the journey we were about to undertake.

**A/N: A quick note, I realized Théoden was eleven at the time of this story so I changed that in the first chapter. Hadyn is getting proven wrong all over the place what with the Ents and Thorongil not being a king. Muwahaha. Too bad she's a regular human and will not survive to see Aragorn stick it to her after the War of the Ring. Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The sun rose slowly over the peaks of the mountainous horizon, blazing brightly until I turned my eyes from it. The dapple-grey gelding beside me was eager to go, prancing to the side with anticipation and boredom. Like me he didn't seem entirely pleased to be waiting on the group of Rohirric riders. As it was, the grey was making foul faces at the other horses as the men lined up beside me, a poor omen for the weeks to come. The moment of departure was a long time coming in my opinion, though I suppose for the men it meant saying farewell to their families.

I'd barely seen the retinue of riders I'd be embarking with during my stay in Edoras. After spending the previous morning with Queen Morwen, I took to a more vigorous cleaning of my weapons and tack. No one bothered me in the barn while I worked but I received several curious glances. My horse had been well housed in a generous stall of the likes he was unaccustomed to; his content chewing of hay the only indication that he was awake.

I saw Thorongil at supper though he spoke little to me. I was seated at the table of the king and his family, Théoden's sisters interested in my training with weaponry. Discussion leapt between their experience in Gondor and my early life in Esgoroth.

"Why did they change the name?" fifteen year old Guthwyn inquired, giving me but a moment to finish chewing a crust of bread.

"Smaug destroyed Lake-town," I replied, aware of the numerous eyes upon me. "We relocated and renamed the town. It seemed proper to leave the past where it was."

"Did you see the dragon?" Théoden asked, his supper all but forgotten on his plate.

"I was only six and I remember very little of that time," I lied. I felt Thorongil's excessively critical eyes watching me from his chair beside the King. A pox on him. I wasn't going to lay bare the painful memories of that time before these strangers. "We learned our lesson, though. No dragonkin will smite Esgaroth again."

"Why is your husband not with you, Lady Hadyn?" Théoden's other sister had been quiet until now, her blue eyes watching me with the composure she shared with her mother. I judged her to be the eldest of Thengel's brood, her long blonde hair plaited with spring flowers, her expression solemn. I did not like how grim these folk appeared, joviality reserved for a select few.

"I do not have a husband, Elfhild." It was a topic I knew was bound to be broached but I was hardly expecting it from a child. Before I could extrapolate Guthwyn beat me to a response, her tone both bemused and matter-of-fact.

"Why? You're pretty enough. And you must be in your twentieth season."

"Guthwyn!" Both Morwen and Elfhild exclaimed disapprovingly. The younger girl sat back in her chair with a frown while Thengel chuckled to himself.

"True," I answered with an affectionate smile to the girl."But my father was blessed with a wealth of sons. Marrying me off was not on his mind. As I said I was very young when the dragon destroyed our town and with it my father. I've lived under the care of brothers who had not the time to bother picking a husband for their tag-a-long little sister."

"How I would love a brother" Théoden muttered into his cup, audible only to myself and Morwen who flanked him at the table. I couldn't help but smile, his comment diverting the conversation from my past. Had anyone else inquired into my personal life their response would've been brusque and unembellished. But children did not ask questions with malevolent or suspicious intent and I felt I couldn't deny young Guthwyn an answer. From then, however, talk turned to Théoden's lack of male siblings, teasing among the family a welcomed break from the discomfiture of interrogation. The evening progressed pleasantly, bringing me to the morning of our departure.

"Are you ready, my Lady?" the leader of our company shot me a glance as we stood before Meduseld, memories from last night fading with the morning dew.

"As ready as the tide," I answered with a small grin. He did not return it, simply donning the helmet and mounting up. I decided Alrik son of Bregdan was a curmudgeon, taking unseen joy in dampening even the brightest of mornings. The fact that he was leading our journey was exceptionally annoying.

"A safe passage North," came the voice of King Thengel from his position at the foot of Meduseld. He stood there with Théoden, Elfhild and Thorongil to bid us farewell. I'd said my goodbyes to Morwen the night before, surprised to hear she'd packed my belongings herself into my satchel. I was glad to say goodbye to her in private, my fondness for the woman creating a small sorrow in my heart. I doubted I'd ever see her again but I made sure to tell her how appreciative I was of her hospitality and kindness.

"We ride in your honor, Thengel King," Alrik responded with a bow of his head. His men were dressed for war, not travel though it was not my place to disagree. Their armor glinted in the sun, once more affirming the fine craftsmanship of the Rohirric people.

"Send the folk of Esgaroth Rohan's regards," the King returned with a smile, his gaze shifted to me as I mounted the horse. "Bear the news of our alliance to your Lord, my Lady. May your journey be swift and know you are welcome in the land of the Horselords."

"Thank you, noble King," I answered, gathering the reins of my beast. I caught the gaze of Thorongil, knowing at once that he was going to speak to me and dreading it.

"Keep well, Lady Hadyn," he began respectfully in a low voice. I sensed the others in my party were listening with interest as the King's adviser spoke on. "May you establish a strong and honorable alliance between our lands."

I was expecting more, but he seemed to be finished. I nodded abruptly in response before offering a farewell smile to Théoden. The boy waved exuberantly as we wheeled our horses about, starting down the hill toward the gates. I heard the child say something but it was lost amidst the hoofbeats as we departed Meduseld. Folk had stepped out of their homes to offer nods and stern gazes. It was as if we were riding into battle with the mood these people displayed. And it seemed my companions were equally dour so I dare not smile or offer any farewells, as I might've at home.

We exited Edoras and set off a brisk trot to warm the horses' muscles, the sun warming our skin as she rose higher in the eastern sky. I'd been previously introduced to all six members of my company, but could honestly remember but three. Five seemed about my age, one man clearly older, perhaps late thirties, his expression gloomy as though this were the direst mission he'd been ordered to partake. It troubled me that no one was talking but I kept my thoughts to myself as we rode.

The men immediately adopted a military formation, riding in pairs which left my horse and I awkwardly trotting alongside Alrik. He didn't seem to notice – in fact he'd barely acknowledged my presence since we quit the city. Well he'd have to interact with me at some point for I wouldn't be a silent maid the entire trip.

"The Entwash crossing at Fangorn is surprisingly effortless," I commented congenially, offering a glance to Alrik. Without bothering to look at me he responded in a clipped almost irritated tone.

"We will take a course north through the Wold."

Naturally. I'd avoided riding openly through the wide expanse of Rohirric territory, opting for the potentially perilous path on the edge of Fangorn. Now that I kept company with riders of Thengel's personal Éored I could go just about anywhere I pleased in Rohan. Alrik's intonation implied he was not impressed with my previous efforts to arrive at Edoras. Seeing he wasn't interested in furthering the conversation I dropped back to ride three abreast with the pair behind our leader.

"He's cantankerous in the morning, my Lady," the rider beside me flashed a grin as his chestnut sidled away from my gelding. "But he'll grow on you."

"Haleth," came Alrik's sharp reproach from ahead. The man beside me chuckled and canted his head politely toward me.

"No offense to you, good Alrik," Haleth smirked before lowering his voice. "By midday he'll be kind as a calf."

"I look forward to it," I replied. At least one of these men knew how to smile. The morning and afternoon progressed without incident, my attention divided between the lovely countryside and my new companion. Haleth had a sharp tongue on him but a benevolent nature. He was far more interested in teasing his fellow Éored than riding silently. Every now and again he would swap insults with another man riding behind us, Éadmód. I found myself immediately warming to these two, their banter reminding me of the brothers I left at home. It wasn't until dusk that we broke for water and a momentary rest. We were nearly at the river Entwash, the sound of water rushing echoing over the plains.

We dismounted and allowed the horses time to graze. A few men headed off to relieve themselves while Haleth removed his helmet. Now able to view him from a better angle I saw he was several years my senior but still youthful, a boyish charm to his features. He was perhaps a few inches taller than me and certainly not the tallest. But he held himself as a soldier, tucking his helmet under his arm as he allowed his mare to graze. The other men had also taken the ceremonial helmets off as they tended to their beasts quietly.

Alrik stood to the side of the company with his second in command, Gárulf, likely discussing how best to dump me in the Entwash. The straw blond of Gárulf's hair mirrored that of Haleth's and I realized all my companions had one shade or another of blond. Well, I shouldn't be surprised but it was somewhat comical to me in that moment, looking at their fair heads gathered together like pieces of straw. Alrik's had more of a golden tint to it, cut shorter than the other mens' shoulder length hair. Had he not looked so severe and grave at all times he might've been a handsome man with pleasing features and striking blue eyes. But the perpetual expression of distaste fouled any possibility of attraction.

Gárulf on the other hand was both enjoyable to look at and soft-eyed. While he hadn't been so openly accepting of me, he'd offered me a polite nod and wry smile as the other men joked about. He was probably in his thirtieth year, hazel eyes sharing the same haunted look as Queen Morwen at times. His build was that of a warrior and his tone seemed to temper Alrik's terse commands with lightheartedness. His complexion was like most of these men, generally fair with a certain ruddiness one acquires after hours under the sun. No doubt in summer they would all adopt skin the color of caramel and the texture of leather. I was pleased to be returning to the forest of Mirkwood where a man's complexion stayed the same color year round.

"Water, my Lady?" I turned to see a bear of a man staring down at me with a waterskin extended in one hand. The very height of this fellow blocked the sun, his bright hair a blazing halo about his head. His voice was rough but not all together unkind as he waited for an answer.

"I have my own, but thank you," I replied with a courteous smile. He seemed perplexed for a moment before returning the smile. He was missing at least two teeth but his grin was genuine if not a bit wolfish. He was a huge man by comparison, towering over the rest of our company. I'm not sure how I missed his great height earlier.

"She's not a damsel to be waited upon, Déorbrand," Alrik murmured with a dismissive glance at me. "She undertook this journey once without the assistance of men. She can do it again."

He wasn't exactly defending my honor, the comment feeling slightly more biting than it should've been. I leveled my gaze at our leader with the same expression of challenged I'd bestowed upon Thorongil. Alrik was disagreeably more similar to the King's adviser with each word out of his mouth. Not ready to let him have the final say, I squared my shoulders and raised my chin.

"I have no protest to making this trip alone, were it not for the agreement between our two lords that you join me." Resisting the urge to turn on my heel like an ill-tempered child, I continued to stare at the man until he offered an apathetic shrug and went back to his discussion with Gárulf.

"Did I say irritable in the morning?" Haleth put in with a smirk. "Forgive me, lass, but old Alrik's difficult all hours of the day it seems."

"At least he isn't a scurrilous lout like you," another man put in with a snort.

"A fine talker yourself, Léod! If I hear another cheeky quip from you I'll be forced to ride beside Lord Alrik for the remained of the trip. A fate worse than death I wager."

"Enough you two," came Gárulf's firm admonishment. Quiet fell over the men as we mounted once more and began to ride. It seemed for all his sternness Alrik did allow his men some leniency to joke, for a man who fears rebuke every time he seeks to lighten the mood would keep his mouth shut tight. These men, once comfortable with me, didn't mind breaking into a little lighthearted banter, which pleased me greatly. The sound of the river increased as we rode on from a dim ring to a noisy churning, flowing loudly ahead of our party.

"Will we make camp beyond the river?" I asked the giant, Déorbrand after an hour of silent riding. He looked at me thoughtfully before answering in a slow baritone.

"No, my Lady. We cross the river and continue through the night." He paused to look me over once in a concerned manner. "Is that not to your liking?"

"It does not bother me," I replied with a smile. "I would be glad to cover the terrain quickly and if that means riding through night then I do no object."

"We do take a rest," Éadmód put in from behind us. They'd lined up in their pairs but I was clearly allowed some flexibility to ride where I pleased so I dropped back to his line. "But the moon is bright in spring, almost like riding during the day."

"The sky is so vast here," I commented with a glance to the young man. He was the youngest of our company, barely twenty and somewhat shy of the teasing of the others. "I had not the opportunity to enjoy the beauty of Rohan on my journey here."

"We are at the river crossing," Alrik's voice rose above the water. He'd halted the party and I pulled my gelding to a halt beside him. The Entwash was neither roaring nor dangerously fast, but maintained a quick current and a smooth surface. Where I'd traversed by Fangorn was significantly less wide and the flow was slower. I glanced at Alrik with a raised eyebrow. I'd expected some manner of bridge but it appeared we'd be forging across. He simply encouraged his black mare on, her narrow hooves crushing the pebbles before sinking into the riverbed. They proceeded in single file, Gárulf's mare following Alrik. Haleth and Léod fell in line, their horses unperturbed by the water. My foolish beast, on the other hand, was drastically put out at not being the first one across. He skittered across the bank, wide eyed and aggressively glaring at the other equines.

"Is he alright?" Éadmód inquired concernedly, pulling his own sorrel mare up close to me. I nodded with a frown, sitting deep in the saddle to prevent the flighty animal from taking off.

"Yes, just foul tempered and hasty," I muttered as Déorbrand watched patiently. The others were nearly across the river, Alrik's black mare barely visible in the fading light. Haleth had turned in his saddle, trying to see what the delay was. My grey horse was beside himself, blowing loudly from flaring nostrils, his tail whipping back and forth like a flag. It took a great deal of muscle to keep him from diving nose first into the water, my torso leaning back as leverage against his impending forward momentum.

"You'd best let him ahead, my Lady," Déorbrand murmured with a nod to the gelding. "He's pitching to be the lead horse and if we set off first he'll likely never get across."

Sound advice. I nodded in agreement and allowed the horse to move. He practically leapt into the water, pushing against the current with strong legs. It wasn't deep at this crossing, his hooves connecting with the river bottom as he surged forward with no encouragement from his rider. The water reached my knees and I held the reins in one hand while lifting my satchel with the other to avoid water-logging the contents. We'd almost made up the distance between Léod's steed and us by the time Éadmód and Déorbrand entered the river. After making it across without incident, the gelding made a final push to trot onto the bank where the others were halted, shaking himself free of water and snorting.

"Feisty one, isn't he," Gárulf nodded to the grey as I dropped the satchel back to the saddle.

"Unexpectedly so," I replied with a slight scowl.

But it seemed the ordeal had put me in a better light, for all the men, save Alrik, were grinning. I suppose of all things I could gain their respect for horse mastery was superior. The moon hung low in the sky, but the stars were out casting a shimmering silver haze over the countryside. We waited until the last two were free of the river before resuming the trek. I rode beside Haleth, listening to him recount a story of his first horse, glad these men spoke the language of Gondor. It would've been a frightfully uncomfortable trip if we had a language barrier. After a while, the men fell silent and we walked calmly across the plains, the pairings broken with the rocky terrain. Allowing the gelding to stretch his neck I found myself beside Alrik who rode alone at the head of our company.

"Perhaps he should be the first horse across the rivers from here on," he stated without looking at me. His tone, though still unfriendly, had lost its edge.

"Or he'll learn his place among the herd," I answered with a frown. If he was suggesting it because he thought I couldn't control my own horse then he sorely incorrect. I was no horselord but neither was I trained on some dainty lady's pleasure horse. I broke foals with my brothers and had a fair share of bucks and hard landings. I stared at the man who offered me a glance, my expression giving him no doubt that I firm on this matter.

"As you see fit, my Lady." There was a note of respect in his voice. I'm not entirely certain how I managed his esteem, but I appreciated it. Though I could still see he disliked my company I at least held merit in one aspect he deemed important. Nothing more was said between us and I eventually dropped back to let him lead the way in solitude.


End file.
